Cagebreaker
by florienna
Summary: Alex was expecting many things for his fourteenth birthday- Jack's birthday breakfast spread, some presents, a day out and the childish (fervent) hope that Ian would be home in time. This, however, this was definitely not on the agenda.
1. An Unexpected Addition

**Author's notes: An Alex Rider wingfic because there weren't any Alex Rider wingfics when I started writing this and clearly something had to be done.**

**On that note, this is a wingfic but I'm aiming for the story to also explore Alex's relationships with the other characters and to follow a steady plot, so the wings and its abilities may not be the central focus until later.**

**The plot and ending has been planned out and my aim is to make this my first completed fanfiction- there'll probably be around 6 chapters but we'll see how it ends up. I proof read my work but please comment if there are any typos or grammar that needs editing.**

**Rating T is due to mild gore in a few scenes. There will be K Unit and Yassen in later chapters.**

**Read and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 1: An Unexpected Addition**

**(In which the extensive collection of Teenage Book Guides, which Ian forced Alex to read as soon as he hit puberty, definitely didn't warn him about this.)**

It began on his fourteenth birthday.

Ian had been spending more and more time away from home lately and it had caused more than one fiercely hushed late night arguments between Jack and Ian. Alex had laid still in his bed on those nights and squeezed his eyes shut. Sometimes Jack would enter his bedroom afterwards with soft footsteps in the dark and gently brush Alex's hair with a sad hand. Alex would pretend to be asleep with practised even breaths and Jack would sigh knowingly before kissing his forehead with a whispered, "Good night, dear."

Sometimes Alex could spy Ian's silent shadow standing outside his bedroom door. He never came in.

Alex didn't care. He really didn't, he was used to his uncle's absences and complaining would be immature. Ian had to do his work and Alex was fine with Jack looking after him.

Still Alex couldn't help his smile when Ian had promised to be back home in time for his birthday. Whether it was because of Jack's pushing or coincidence, his business trip was planned to end a good few days before the date on February 13th. The trip was something to do with going to France. Alex didn't claim to know much about his uncle's job but it wasn't something he thought about much considering their kind of distant relationship.

February 12th was a Saturday and Alex spent his morning at his school's weekly football training. He dribbled, ran and was covered in the usual dirt and grass by the end of the session. There was a bounce in his step as he walked back to his house with Tom.

"That pass you did to Dan was bloody fantastic!" Tom gushed with a wide grin which Alex retuned easily. "I haven't seen you so pumped up in ages, did something good happen?"

"Nah, I'm just in a good mood," Alex replied, his arm jostling companionably against Tom's. "Also the sun's actually out today, as rare as that is."

Tom laughed showing white teeth and Alex chuckled a little, scratching the back of his football shirt as he did so. His smile sunk into a slight frown and Tom's eyes flicked to his.

"Hey man what's wrong?" Tom nudged and Alex shrugged.

"Nothing, my back's just been itchy today. It's probably just the shirt material or some grass." Alex felt his back burn again but he ignored it, not wanting to give in to the temptation and aggravate it further. Tom nodded accepting Alex's explanation and the rest of the walk was filled with the easy going, light hearted banter between two close friends.

Alex waved goodbye to Tom at his house. His eyes instinctively scanned the driveway, and then the parked cars on the street curbs. No sign on Ian's sleek black BMW in sight. With a mental shrug, Alex fit in his house key and slipped inside. Jack was cooking in the kitchen and called out firmly, "Shower and change before food! You look filthy! Don't get mud everywhere, I just cleaned!"

Alex rolled his eyes a little and trekked upstairs straight to the bathroom. He would rather fetch clean clothes after a shower than face Jack's wrath at dragging his dirt soiled clothes any further into the house. With one arm scratching his back, Alex locked the bathroom door before freezing his arm and frowning deeply. This was starting to become annoying…

Stripping his shirt off, Alex walked up to the wall mirror. Nothing. His skin was clear, no grass or rashes or anything that could cause irritation. Alex's eyebrows furrowed as he twisted his torso in different angles, trying to find any sign that could explain his still lingering itch. The overhead circular lights illuminated his back in a white light that missed nothing. Finally Alex dropped his shoulders and crouched lightly on the balls of his feet. His fingers thoughtfully rubbed his football shirt on the floor. Alex's skin had never been sensitive and his school bought football shirt had never given him problems for the past year. Maybe today the grass had just rubbed him the wrong way.

Alex dumped the shirt alongside his shorts and underwear into the dirty laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. The heavy water pressure in the shower soothed his back, chasing away the itch. Heat loosened his tight muscles and Alex felt refreshed as he left the bathroom with a towel wrapped tight around his waist. Luckily Jack was still downstairs so he could dash to his bedroom and avoid the teenage embarrassment of being seen half naked.

The growling of his stomach prompted Alex to change swiftly into a soft blue sweatshirt and jeans. Hunger chased away all further thoughts and lunch was spent enjoying Jack's stir fried noodles with mixed vegetables. The rest of the day passed with the hours melting into each other. Alex lounged in the sitting room couch, idly flicking through a dog eared novel for English. Jack flopped down next to him after a while and flicked through TV channels. Slowly, Alex's eyes began to droop and Jack gave a fond smile.

"Go to bed, Alex. It's a busy day tomorrow," and as soon as the words left her lips, Jack's smile strained. Alex hurriedly agreed with a compliant, "Sure, good night."

He left the room quickly before Jack could comment on Ian's absence.

As if given a cue, his back chose that moment to begin burning again with an earnest. Alex gasped and bent over halfway up the staircase.

"Alex?" Jack called up from the sitting room. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, just dropped my phone," Alex ground out, somehow managing to keep his voice even. His knuckles tightened to a deathly white on the banister and he forcibly straightened up as if picking up his phone. With another quieter gasp, Alex pushed himself to the top of the stairs and into his bedroom. He barely had the restraint to shut his door before giving in to his urges. With desperate arms, Alex clawed at his back like a wild animal. Nails sunk deep into his skin and left flares of pain.

It wasn't enough. It was too much, too much…

Alex ripped his shirt over his head sending buttons flying off. His back felt like it was on fire, as if there were a thousand needles underneath his flesh and bone. His arms were scratching in all directions now, crossing then uncrossing over his chest and shoulder unable to find the perfect reach. Blood was clotting under his fingernails and smearing across his hands and back with every jagged lash. Alex shuddered in revulsion at himself but he simply couldn't satisfy the flaming itch. He couldn't stop. The feeling was so intense that it was the only thing on Alex's mind, obscuring all his senses. He couldn't even call for help, not that he thought anyone could possibly help with this.

Stumbling while still continuously scratching, Alex fell hapzardly onto his bed. He had never been gladder it was right next to the large window. The air was cooler here and Alex put up with it for the sake of watching the stars from his bed. Usually he put on an extra woollen blanket in winter for warmth but it was kept in his cupboard, to be taken out at bedtime. So when he fell onto the sheets, cold linen met his body. Alex inhaled sharply and rolled over on his bare back, shuddering from head to toe in pleasure. He rubbed his back up and down and revelled, half delirious, how the icy cool temperature gave relief to his back.

For a few blissful minutes, that was enough. But like most good things, it didn't last. Alex groaned in frustration as his body heat was slowly warming the sheets and chasing away the cold. He rolled over, pressing and pushing his back against every cold patch on the blanket, pillow and mattress. If only he could take a cold shower…

Alex glimpsed at his digital bedside clock. 11:19pm. There was no way he could let Jack hear him running a shower this late at night. It would be logical to ask for help…but Alex felt a strong, unexplainable urge to ride this through alone.

The burning itch was gradually resurfacing. The bed sheets weren't going to suffice.

Alex bit his lip, glanced to his bedroom door then back at his window. He made his decision.

With one last savage rub, Alex forced himself to sit up and leap for the window handle. He twisted, pushed and opened it wide outwards. It was a winter night in February and absolutely freezing. Jack would flip if she saw. To Alex, it was pure bliss.

An arctic cold breeze floated in, pushed its tendrils against Alex's turned back. His arms, heavy with exhaustion, could now rest. His scratches felt numbed and the itch was still there but thankfully it was a smaller presence now. Alex didn't know how long he simply sat there, sitting cross legged on his rumpled blood streaked bed. At some point his slouch led to him lying on his stomach with his naked back still exposed to the window. Half thoughts strayed through Alex's mind, like the need to clean the mess he made, to close the window before Jack saw tomorrow morning and the fact that Ian had broken his promise.

Most of all, Alex wanted to look in a mirror and check his back. But these thoughts were hazy at best and Alex eventually drifted into a worn out sleep.

Unconscious, Alex didn't notice that as his clock glowed 12:00am his itching and pain left his body as it they had never existed.

* * *

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!" Unfortunately for Alex no matter how many different times he articulated the breathless exclamation, it did nothing to make the situation disappear.

Standing in front of his full length mirror, freshly awoken, Alex stared. And then stared some more. With his dropped jaw and wide blown eyes, it was hard to associate this Alex with his typically serious and relatively level headed self.

Alex slowly reached up to his arm… and pinched it hard.

"Ow!" he muttered and that was the last proof that this wasn't some hallucinatory, very verybizzare dream.

In the clear reflection stood one Alex Rider, with wings on his back.

The wings were completely two dimensional like a tattoo inked into his skin yet Alex had never seen such an intricate and elegant tattoo in his life. Alex wasn't the art admiring or artistic type but on all his masculine pride he couldn't deny that they were breathtakingly beautiful. Golden in hue, the wings were shaped like they were resting folded over his shoulder blades. There were smaller feathers bundled closer together near the joints and longer, sweeping feathers trailing down his back with the tips nearly dipping under his waistband. Alex carefully traced his finger on one of these longer feathers and could only feel the smoothness of his skin.

Huh. He had half expected to feel the ridges and soft textures that was patterned into every feather. Alex turned his torso deliberately and in half awe watched the sunlight catch the wings, making the bronze undertones shimmer almost appreciatively.

For a few minutes Alex stood there in a muted daze. Then his brain kicked in like a sharp slap in the face from reality. What the hell was happening to him? First the unbearable, out of nowhere pain last night and now he was sprouting some tattoo like wings! It was like a badly written scene out of a fantasy movie only without any backstory or explanations.

Alex startled as there were two knocks at his door followed by a raised, "Wake up Alex! Breakfast's ready downstairs so come down!"

Jack- how was he going to explain this to Jack? Morning Jack, nice weather isn't it? By the way I totally didn't illegally sneak out to a tattoo parlour last night and these wing designs just magically grew out of nowhere, I swear. Yeah right, as if Jack would believe that or any other version of what happened. This, Alex firmly decided, would have to stay a secret until he could find out properly what was going on.

"Alex, are you up yet?" Jack knocked again from behind the door and Alex was infinitely grateful they had a mutual agreement of 'I'm a teenager so let me have some private space' since he hit puberty. Jack wouldn't barge into his room in the mornings so he had time to get decent.

"Yeah I'm up, be down in half an hour," Alex called back, making sure his voice sounded groggy and sleep muddled to avoid suspicion. Suddenly it felt like a race against time. His room was chaotic with the flung open window, flung around blood-stained sheets and other small items like his shirt and some books flung around in general in his uncoordinated movements last night. Alex rushed about his room, tidying as much as he could with quick strides. He gathered the sheets in his arms and stuffed them in the back of his cupboard behind some old boxes on the top shelf where Jack never looked. By the time the allocated half hour had passed Alex's room looked as ordinary as possible, with the fresh bed sheets deliberately crumpled beforehand to look like they hadn't been changed.

Showered and dressed, Alex was about to walk into the kitchen when he heard Jack speaking in a lowered tone. He paused and discreetly hid himself from the doorway's view. Jack didn't pause so she must not have noticed his presence.

"…he's your nephew and I understand you aren't able to be home often but breaking your promise to a child, without even calling to let him know? I am not happy and as soon as you hear this I expect you to call back, or even better be back to apologise to him." There was silence, then the shuffling of a chair and a tired sigh. Jack must have been leaving a voice mail to Ian.

Forcing a relaxed posture, Alex walked in and greeted, "Morning Jack, what's for breakfast?"

"Morning to you birthday boy," Jack grinned brightly and Alex's heart tightened a little at her determinedly cheerful vibe. "I've made a special birthday breakfast for you today."

As Jack served the hot pancakes with melted chocolate and chattered on about the fun outing and evening meal she had planned for today, Alex didn't notice the small smile slipping onto his face. Ian may not have been there, he wasn't any closer to resolving his wings mystery with a thousand unanswered questions and it was going to be a mission to hide. But this, sitting here with Jack in the warm sunlit kitchen, this was all that mattered at the moment.


	2. To Bully an Alex Bird

**Chapter 2: To Bully an Alex Bird**

**(Climbing ridiculous heights is not without consequences.)**

* * *

Then of course, Alex's life went to hell a month later. Ian was dead, then Alex worked out he had been murdered, then there was the whole fiasco with jumping out of a fifteen floor window because stubborn wasn't even close to describing Alex Rider.

When he had leapt onto the flag pole, Alex wondered if he imagined his wings stretching slightly.

Yes, they were still there. No, Alex still had no clue how he got them or what they were exactly. Sitting opposite Alan Blunt and Mrs Jones, Alex wondered if they knew and how they would react if they found out. They facial expressions were like waxwork, stiff and cold. Alex spent the whole forced dinner with a stiff back and clenched hands. He felt a sense of wrongness from the proclaimed heads of MI6 which was only heightened after their blackmail card.

Alex felt trapped and he didn't like it.

"Yeah. All right. It doesn't look like I've got very much choice."

But his eyes were still blazing and Alex thought, you can't cage me. He would survive this crazy mission so MI6 could never bother his life again.

* * *

"Oops, better watch your step Double O Nothing," sneered a dark voice. Alex couldn't help his face flushing from all the jeers and laughter around him.

Wolf stood to the side with a wide smirk, having tripped up Alex in front of the entire mess hall. Alex pushed himself to his feet, aching muscles and bones protesting, and tried to keep the frustration from his face. His tray, cutlery and the slop passing for food was plastered over the floor and all over his ill fitted uniform.

He was starving and they didn't give out second helpings.

A dirty mop and bucket was pushed into his arms by one of the glaring kitchen attendants. Wolf's smirk grew wider, a feat Alex had thought impossible, and he sauntered off to sit with the rest of K Unit. Alex pressed his lips together tightly and pretended to ignore the mockingly amused and hateful stares as he cleaned up the mess. He listened to the swish, swish, splash of the mop's sweeps to keep his mind off other subjects. Like how hellish this entire S.A.S. training camp was, or Wolf's bullying, or a dozen other injustices that Alex knew couldn't be fixed.

Alex silently slipped out of the mess hall after cleaning up. No one tried to stop him.

Soon he was standing under a showerhead, gritting his teeth against the cold water. His wings were twitching in protest. This new development had freaked Alex out initially- it seemed like his 'tattoos' liked to move sometimes depending on his emotions. The first time it happened was a few days ago when Alex had accidentally slipped from one of the rope swings and landed flat into the muddy lake below. His wings had definitely shivered making Alex's eyes blow open in shock. That, alongside looking remarkably like a drowned cat, had done little to prove his toughness to the other soldiers.

"Can't handle getting a little wet, Double O Nothing?" Wolf had jibed too low for anyone else to hear, shoulder pushing hard against Alex's as he walked past. Alex felt like any slight fondness towards the whole James Bond series had been ruthlessly destroyed because he was sick of that damned nickname.

Now Alex's wings were definitely drooping sullenly against the uncomfortable water temperature. Alex found himself idly lifting a hand to stroke a wing and felt their movements soothen and…was that a thrum of pleasure he could feel?

He slowly retracted his hand feeling more than a little weirded out. Ducking his head lower, Alex ran his fingers through his wavy locks trying to wash away the dirt in the absence of any shampoo or soap. It was in this position, back hunched over and wings on full display, that Alex heard a bustle of men burst into the shower room.

Alex froze. He could hear the voices of the men behind him also die down. A stifled silence hung in the air and Alex poured every inch of his mental willpower into keeping his wings dead still. He calmly twisted the shower knob shut, hiding his loudly beating heart, and tried to walk past the entire K Unit who had just entered.

Of course it was Wolf who snatched his arm tightly and stopped Alex in his tracks.

"What the hell? What's a kid doing with a tattoo?" Wolf snapped. "Trying to act tough are we? I bet that's why your rich daddy and mommy sent you here- you're some trouble making problem kid."

As usual Alex flinched at the insult to his dead parents, too slight to be picked up on. He began to open his mouth before shutting it hard. He wasn't going to break his self-imposed silence for these bullies. At least they only saw it as a tattoo, nothing more.

Wolf stared at him some more before snorting in disgust. The other three members hadn't spoken a word to help, as usual. Alex had never felt more naked and he brushed past them all to the adjoining changing rooms to get dressed. He left before K Unit had finished showering and fell into a fitful sleep.

If Wolf had been bad before, it was nothing compared to after the revelation. It seemed like any grudging restraint had been blown to the wind now that Alex was some "immature, cocky delinquent."

What was private taunts only loud enough for Alex to hear turned into blatantly open insults, held back only when the Sergeant was in hearing range. Not a single day passed where Wolf hadn't succeeded in shoving a leg in Alex's path or swung the rope bridge sending Alex falling off or had left Alex behind leaving him on his own with no map or provisions. Snake, Eagle and Fox kept up their resolute ignoring of Alex although the times when Alex saw them looking with conflicted eyes were increasing. Alex could sense some unspoken power rule here- it was clear that the unit wouldn't speak up against their leader, at least not in the presence of an outsider and especially one who they didn't think deserved to be there.

Alex could only put up with so much, though. He wanted nothing more than to punch Wolf in the face hard but he kept reminding himself, think of the mission, you have to get through this training.

One day he finally reached his breaking point.

It had been an even longer, tougher day than usual and Alex was half a step away from dropping dead on the floor and sleeping there. He could care less about K Unit's strained behaviour although later on he would recall it vividly. As they walked to their cabin Fox was arguing with Wolf in hushed voices with Snake and Eagle's eyes flicking between them and Alex. Alex walked behind them as usual at a slower pace, cautious to keep his back protected from the rest of the unit.

Wolf strode in first but the other held back, hesitant. Alex felt his eyebrows raise despite himself and examined their faces. None of them met his eyes. Alex's instincts kicked in and his tiredness was pushed to the back of his mind. Something was wrong here.

"Why aren't you going in?" he asked. Alex saw them startle at hearing him speak for the first time since his introduction. Still, no one answered him.

Alex narrowed his eyes and walked in the cabin himself. All his muscles were tensed, expecting a bucket of water over his head or some humiliating prank. But nothing happened. He scanned the cramped room instead and quickly found the problem.

Alex inhaled sharply.

The fifth bed pushed into the wall for him was, to put in simply, utterly trashed. Mounds of soil, mud and dirt were heaped all over it with worms wriggling in and out. On top were dirty feathers and Alex saw the jibe to his wings 'tattoo'. The thin blanket and pillow were missing. His rucksack with his meagre belongings were also missing.

Wolf was sitting nonchalantly against his bed, back against the wall but his eyes were piercing as he watched Alex. He didn't need to say a word- the message couldn't have been clearer. We don't want you here.

Alex met his gaze full on, his face painfully smooth but something must have shown because Wolf's look faltered. Not that it mattered to Alex because he was pacing out of the door in the next heartbeat.

"I told you not to-"came someone's exclamation but Alex was too far gone to listen.

Staying silent for so long was something that went against Alex's entire personality. He always threw back sharp retorts left, right and centre to anyone he didn't like whether it was bullies in school or the heads of freaking MI6. But here in this camp from hell Alex knew it was different. The slightest cheek would be twisted by Wolf to earn him more gruelling exercises, or even worse give them reason to kick him out and how would he survive his mission then? There was also the matter of Alex's pride- he would prove them wrong and get through this without complaining.

Not that K Unit were making that any easier for him. He had taken a small, rare photo of him and Ian with him, from when he was nine and they had gone hiking together in the Alps. It had been tucked carefully into the pocket of his rucksack and the thought of it being torn by Wolf or lost forever made his eyes burn.

Alex felt like his chest was being crushed and he had the strong need to just get away, to be alone for a while. He found himself walking into the forest surrounding the training camp, his strides long and quick. It was late evening and the sky was dark. Dead leaves and branches rustled underneath his boots and a few birds hooted in the distance.

His wings felt like they were burning with Alex's turbulent emotions. In the spur of the moment, Alex found himself climbing a toweringly tall pine tree. His feet found easy purchase as he slipped them into nooks and branches, springing himself higher and higher. It made him feel like a boy again, just another teenager messing around and having fun.

Finally Alex reached the top of the tree. Everything looked miniscule from this high up, the cabins in the distance mere toy blocks smaller than his hand. A strong, unexplainable urge had him stripping his shirt off and the cool night breeze caressed his torso. His wings flexed themselves and stretched out fully, slipping onto his shoulders and arms for more space and the longest feathers cradling his wrists. Alex couldn't see them fully but felt them move with a humming warmth. It felt like they were comforting him, reassuring him that everything would be okay.

Alex laughed a little, a giddy laugh that he hadn't heard from himself in a long time.

He sat there at the pinnacle of the tree, locked his legs securely around his branch and spread his arms out against the wind. It should have been freezing cold but his wings were pulsing heat like an in built radiator.

There was a strong cry and a golden eagle swooped down onto Alex's branch.

Alex's heart leapt into his throat. He had never seen an eagle before, let alone close enough to touch!

It was majestic, with sleek almost black feathers, curved talons and fierce slanted eyes. With another cry, the eagle spread its wings and Alex's wings themselves spread further in welcome. Slowly, half fearful and half spellbound, Alex reached out his hand watching the eagle's movements carefully. It stepped closer and docilely pressed its head to Alex's hand. Letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, Alex stroked the eagle's head delicately before moving further down to its wings. A pleased hoot met his ministrations and the eagle settled down comfortably.

Alex felt like a Disney princess, or some kind of native American warrior.

He leant back against the tree and closed his eyes. Alex wished he could stay like this forever, away from a world where Ian was dead and everything was so difficult.

The shuffling of the eagle's feathers broke Alex out of his musings and he saw it gear itself up, flapping its wings ready. Its eyes locked onto Alex's and he suddenly understood. The eagle wanted Alex to fly with him.

But…how was that possible? His wings could move, give off feelings and apparently make him bond with birds but how could they even fly? They were completely flat, not fluffy extra limbs.

Alex stood up and watched the eagle leap off the branch and take flight. The branch jostled a bit but Alex kept his balance. Was it worth it? The risk of going splat versus the advantages of flying, which even Alex couldn't deny would be really cool. Tom would go crazy with excitement if he knew.

Peering over the edge of the branch, the sheer height suddenly looked rather daunting. It would be a better idea to try at a lower branch so he wouldn't break any bones if he fell.

"CUB! OH GOD DON'T JUMP!" shouted a panicked voice.

Alex jumped in shock and toppled off the branch.

There were a bunch of yells from below but he managed to twist his legs around the branch desperately. Swinging upside down like a kid on the monkey bars, Alex could make out four men craning their heads up at him from the ground.

"Oh my god, oh my god," the same voice was repeating, obviously too shaken up to speak properly. Alex felt a bit offended at that- if anyone should be shaken up, it was him not them.

"COME DOWN CUB!" another person yelled. K Unit, Alex realised, it was K Unit below him. What were they doing here? Shrugging, Alex threw on his shirt and decided there was one way to find out.

With all his finesse, Alex half fell and half climbed back down the tree. Ian had practised this method with him numerous times, with Ian pretending to be a scary monster chasing him and timing Alex how fast he could get down the tree. The trick was to let gravity do most of the work with Alex's feet skipping down the branches like some sort of air bound staircase. The wind whipped and tousled his hair as he descended the tree with graceful ease.

K Unit had exploded into agitated cries from Alex's first drop. Fox's exclaimed 'Oh my god' was strung together like a mantra now and the other were equally aghast. To them, it looked like Alex had jumped straight down feet first with his legs flailing and he was going to die.

So it was the white washed faces of his unit that greeted Alex when he smoothly hit the bottom in a light crouch. Of course, climbing down like that was wholly unnecessary but who could blame him for wanting to give them a heart attack?

And wouldn't that solve everything?, Alex thought wryly.

"I…you…" was Wolf's eloquent stammer. It was so out of character that Alex felt a flare of triumph at having unsettled his tormentor so much. He looked up and down at the four men before him. They looked haggard with dirt caked boots as if they had been walking for a long time. Alex knew that their boots weren't that dirty before he had left.

"Cub…"Wolf finally seemed to find his voice and wasn't that strange, Wolf calling him by his proper code name for once? " I didn't mean to- Well- You know suicide isn't the answer, right?"

Oh. Oh, all the pieces clicked into Alex's mind now. K Unit thought Alex was so upset at their treatment that he was about to commit suicide? It seemed rather extreme but the more Alex thought about it, the more he realised that it could be seen that way from their point of view.

"And, um, you have so much to live for Cub," Wolf carried on with a thick air of awkwardness. His voice was gruff like it was stuck in his throat and he was forcing it out. Alex was feeling overwhelmingly vindictive- he was going to sit back completely and watch this train wreck. He forced on a neutral expression.

"You know, er, your parents would be upset," Wolf ploughed on painfully. "Even if you have any, um, troubles with them they still love you and all that, and, well, you could look at the bright side of life-"

Alex burst out laughing. He couldn't help it, Wolf's voice had been rising the whole way through in pitch at his silence and he had just hit a high rather unmasculine note.

His peals of boyish laughter rang through the forest like ringing bells. Wolf's jaw was hanging and he stood there flabbergasted, making Alex laugh even harder. The other three looked absolutely confused.

It was, Alex decided, a good look for them. He certainly wouldn't mind putting it there more often.

As Alex's chuckles died down he wiped his eyes and said bluntly, not caring if they believed him or not, "I'm not suicidal so don't jump to conclusions. I just wanted to climb a tree. I'm going back."

"Wait!" Wolf grabbed his arm again and Alex was reminded again of the shower incident and all of Wolf's bullying and his desecrated bed and his photo of Ian.

Alex felt his whole face harden and lose all previous mirth. The change visibly took Wolf aback and both of them were still, like a mockery of musical statues.

Fox broke Wolf's silence by elbowing him and saying in a low tone, "Wolf…"

"Right," Wolf replied hastily and the awkwardness was back full force like it had never left. "I…I wanted to say sorry, for giving you such a hard time. I didn't really realise how far it'd gotten until today, I mean…fuck, you have to see how it is for us. We've trained our asses off for this and all of a sudden some kid with no experience waltzes in like he belongs here."

And the thing was Alex could see their perspective perfectly. It may be an explanation, but it wasn't a justification and both of them knew it. The thought shone clear in Alex's eyes, plain for everyone see.

"So…we could start again, I'm Wolf, twenty-five and from Manchester," offered Wolf stiffly. It was so obvious that making amends wasn't easy for Wolf that Alex couldn't help feeling a little softened.

"I'm Fox, twenty and from Cardiff," Fox joined in with an approving smile.

"I'm Snake, twenty-four and I'm from Liverpool," Snake chimed in. Eagle followed quickly with, "I'm Eagle, twenty-two and from Aberdeen."

All of them looked at Alex expectantly and he picked up the cue. "I'm Cub, fourteen and living in London."

"I didn't realise you were that young," Snake murmured and Alex could see the questions lurking in all their eyes, but thankfully they had the grace not to ask. Alex hardly felt at the caring and sharing stage with these men, apologies and amends aside.

This wasn't what Alex had expected at all in his wildest dreams. He had been fully prepared to soldier through alone and this was a plot twist he would have laughed at if someone had told him yesterday.

Wolf cleared his throat and added, "This was in your bag, we fixed all your stuff but I thought you would want this first."

The photo of Alex and Ian was offered to him like an olive branch of peace. Alex felt tears spring to his eyes but resolutely held them back. The other men pretended not to see and watched him lower his head, gently smooth out all the creases and edges.

It wasn't a magic fix it, but maybe…maybe things would be okay now.

"So, you're not going to jump on us again are you?" Eagle burst less than tactfully, ruining the moment. Everyone groaned collectively and the walk back was filled with Alex's defensive protests and the sound of companionable arguing.


	3. Pride and Parachutes

**Chapter 3: Pride and Parachutes**

**(Alex is a troll and friendship is magical.)**

* * *

It certainly wasn't a magic fix it, Alex found himself reflecting. You couldn't simply go from ruthless bullying (on Wolf's part) or being treated like a wall (on Fox, Snake and Eagle's part) to being best buddies. Still, feelings were slowly mending and a tentative bond was growing between Alex and K Unit.

The bullying stopped completely, for one, which was a given otherwise Alex would have seriously doubted Wolf's apology. Alex wasn't mollycoddled but he was no longer treated as an intruder. The other members threw comments to him during training, left an open space for him in their conversations and sat with him during meals. They were starting to work together as a team in their training which their instructors had commented on.

Alex had started to pick up little titbits about his team mates that he wouldn't have known before, like Wolf's hatred of pop music or Snake's pet hamster which he left in his younger sister's care.

The other units still gave him looks, but Alex's only real bully had been Wolf and K Unit's acceptance of him had led to some other units warming up to him a little. Nothing too wild of course, just small things like a nod after he completed an exercise well or a rare smile. So now that Wolf had backed off, things were relatively peaceful for Alex- minus the bone wrenching training, of course.

It was the last night for Alex in Brecon Beacons, having been told by the Sergeant that he was being picked up at the end of tomorrow's training exercise. K Unit had spent longer than usual staying up that night, making conversation and dragging Alex into a game of cards. It was unspokenly blatant that they were doing it for Alex, to spend their last night together as a whole unit before he left.

It was late when they finally dragged themselves to bed, having the sense to get some sleep as they were always forced awake inanely early for training. Alex blearily snuggled further in his blanket, feeling the most content he had been since Ian's death.

Suddenly he felt something thin and sharp prick his skin. Everything whirled about woozily before Alex blacked out.

A clinical white light was the next thing Alex saw. It hung over from an overhead lamp and Alex squinted his eyes against the blinding brightness. He tried to sit up but he couldn't.

What?

He tried again. His limbs were trapped, strapped down with leather belts as if he was a wild monster. Trapped, like a bird in a cage. Alex pushed harder but the restraints wouldn't budge. His struggle was halted by the sound of high heels coming closer. Click, clack, click, clack.

A pause. Then that oily hated voice said, "Alex Rider. Did you really think we would never find out? There's nothing we don't know about you."

Alan Blunt. Why was Blunt wearing high heels? Then Alex saw Blunt dissolve out of the shadows and into the lamp light and understood. Mrs Jones was beside him, she was the one who had made the click clack noise. Blunt had been silent, silent like an oppressive haunting ghost or silent like someone who dies in their sleep.

His words registered in Alex's mind and he froze. Did…did they know?

A smile pooled onto Blunt's face like an oil spill. "Your wings, Alex Rider. A most unusual case certainly. You understand that you had to be taken out, to keep the world safe from any threat you pose."

No, no, that wasn't true. Alex would never hurt anyone, he wouldn't.

Blunt carried on, "It's a matter of security that you be kept here Alex Rider. We must examine what is wrong with you."

But what about the mission?

"We never really needed you Alex Rider. We could have easily sent in an adult operative, disguised them as a guard or used hidden cameras. Your going was to punish Ian Rider for his failure. A death sentence."

This couldn't be happening. He felt strangely betrayed by a group he hadn't trusted to begin with. Alex renewed his struggles, jerking wildly but it was useless.

"I'll tell them! I'll tell the world how twisted you are!" Alex screamed hoarsely. Blunt titled his head cordially and said in a reasonable tone, "An ambitious statement Alex Rider, but you are staying here for the rest of your life. Have a good day."

The click click of Mrs Jones and her silent ghost echoed in Alex's ears like a bullet ricocheting in a tunnel's walls. White coated people appeared out of nowhere and their plastic gloved hands pushed him hard against the operating table. Needles were being stabbed into him, searing liquids injected into his bloodstream. Alex felt his body turn into rubber and couldn't move an inch when his restraints were suddenly unlatched. He was flopped onto his stomach. His back was being prodded hard before he felt it.

The tell-tale sharp point of a blade.

Alex's mind was whirring with alarm but his body still couldn't move. He could only lie with horror, feeling the tip of metal drag deep into his flesh, outlining his wings before pushingdown under and tearing the flesh out. They ripped out from his spine like tearing meat from a chicken leg, only Alex was screaming, screaming so hard-

Alex jolted up and would have fallen if it wasn't for the firm hands on his upper arms. He was panting hard and his throat felt sore. Alex's desperate gasps filled the air.

His cheek was also stinging.

"Sorry about that, Cub. You weren't waking up," Fox apologised. Alex unfurled himself and looked around him. Fox, still holding him with worried eyes. Wolf sitting by him on Alex's bed, his face drawn… Eagle, sprawled over his bed with the covers thrown off.

Wolf followed Alex's gaze and snorted. "Yeah, nothing short of an earthquake can wake that guy up."

Alex felt a smile tug on his lips before looking inquiringly at Snake's empty bed.

"He just went-" Fox began before the opening of the door cut him off. Snake entered and seeing Alex awake, walked over to him quickly.

"Here," Snake urged softly and a cold canteen of water was pressed into Alex's weak hands. Disorientation fading, Alex realised it had just been a dream. He sighed shakily because it was just a dream, he was okay.

He was still sitting there with the canteen in his lap, so Fox covered his hands with his larger ones and lifted the canteen to his lips. At the first sip Alex managed to grasp it tight enough and Fox let go. He chugged down the water, refreshing his throat and making his mind feel more awake.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Snake pressed and if Alex wasn't so shaken, he would have been alarmed at how caring his tough guy unit were being. Alex shook his head at Snake. How would he begin to explain that he had a nightmare that he was pulled out of his top secret mission by MI6, which by the way he was blackmailed into after his uncle's murder, because they wanted to experiment on his supernatural wings?

"Just a bad dream," Alex said quietly. Wolf shook his head.

"Must have been one hell of a nightmare," he muttered without any real bite. He yawned so wide Alex thought his jaw would unhinge and rubbed his face with one hand.

"Well get some sleep. Got to wake up in an hour or two," came his muffled advice before Wolf trudged back to his bed. A wave of guilt washed over Alex, embarrassed over waking up his unit especially on his last night.

"Let's get some fresh air Cub," Ben said suddenly. He nodded goodnight to Snake and guided Alex outside with an arm slung around his shoulders.

The sky was royal blue, some shades lighter than pitch black that showed the sun was on its way to rise. Alex and Fox sat down on the rickety wooden steps leading to the door. An agreeable silence rose between them as they both watched the sky.

"My dad's an arsehole," Fox spoke up first. "Drinks beer like it's water and used to beat me up all the time. So of course I ran away and joined the army as soon as I hit eighteen."

Alex shifted uncomfortably, unable to see where this came from. He wasn't really sure what to say for once. Fox carried on casually, "I used to have nightmares of him nearly every night. It's nothing new here, a lot of soldiers have some kind of sob story that makes sleep hard sometimes. The other guys in K Unit too…"

Fox trailed off before clearing his throat and adding, "Anyway, they're not my stories to tell. Let's just say they've had their own fair share too. So don't feel bad about it Cub."

Fox's eyes were such a genuine, earnest blue that Alex's lingering guilt and embarrassment ebbed and he gave a slow nod.

"That's good," Fox said. "You know…you're not a kid with rich parents, are you? It just doesn't fit, your belongings don't look that fancy and you don't seem the type. Trust me, I met plenty of stuck up snobs and they're nothing like you."

"Someone give the man a prize," Alex retorted and Fox chuckled.

"And to think one week ago no one would have thought you had one hell of a mouth," Fox teased, shaking his head. "But what are you doing here, underage, on an army training camp then? I mean the only other people who come here are MI6 agents…"

At Alex's silence Fox's face was filled with incredulous realisation. "But surely they wouldn't use someone so young…right?"

Alex raised an eyebrow pointedly and commented, "You're very perceptive. Looks like you're better suited for my place than I am."

He leaned forward until their foreheads were nearly touching and looked Fox dead in the eye.

"If you say anymore though, I might have to shoot you"

And with that parting line Alex went back inside, trying not to laugh at Fox's face.

* * *

Alex's last day found him on a plane ready to drop off K Unit and two others into the air from one hundred metres high. With parachutes, of course.

Unlike passenger travel planes, this military plane consisted of a single metal room with long benches fused into each of the two walls. Wolf had herded K Unit into the very back of the compartment, furthest away from where the back door would unfold to let the men jump.

Alex immediately sat himself at one of the small circular windows and pressed his face closer. If he had any inklings before about his sudden longing for heights, this was solid proof that yes, he had a slight obsession. Before, the very thought of jumping off a plane with a silk parachute would have made him nauseous but now he would have loved nothing more than to do said crazy act. His wings were a bigger influence on his body than he had previously thought and Alex wasn't quite sure what to think of that yet.

To his deep disappointment, Alex was just tagging along to observe to avoid the risk of injury before his mission.

Soon the green go ahead light was flashing and the door hatch lowered. The wind rushed in, embracing Alex and intensifying his longing to an aching burn.

Men stepped forward in pairs and dropped out of sight like toy solder figurines. Alex was confused when Wolf shuffled back discreetly, then took his sweet time stepping forward, then stood frozen at the door. Realisation flooded Alex- Wolf, one of the most macho men in the whole training camp, was scared. Oh, this was singularly precious.

He made his way to the other side of the plane. Wolf didn't move an inch at his new companion. Careful of Wolf's pride, Alex stepped a tiny bit closer and called over the din of the rushing wind, "Wolf?"

No reply. Wolf was as stiff as a frozen block of ice. Worried now, Alex knew he couldn't let Wolf get binned for not jumping after all they had been through together. With this in mind, and maybe or maybe not a sharkish grin on his face, Alex raised one heavy boot and propelled Wolf out into the open air with a merciless kick to his backside.

His strangled scream, fading rapidly as he plummeted down, was like music to Alex's ears.

* * *

Seeing Mrs Jones in the hangar made Alex shudder immediately, his nightmare from last night surfacing in his mind. The ensuing conversation and gadgets from Smithers made Alex feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on him. It was an unwelcome reminder that this was real- he was really going on this crazy spy mission.

After Mrs Jones left, Wolf entered the hangar looking flushed and out of breath like he had rushed there to arrive before everyone else. His eyes quickly found Alex and he strode over.

"Cub look, what happened on the plane…" Wolf began, looking like the words were physically paining him.

"Don't hurt your masculine macho pride," Alex cut in. "Don't worry about it. It's no big deal."

"No, it was," Wolf pushed on stubbornly albeit with much difficulty. "I just, you're one of us now and you deserve to be treated right. So thanks."

Wolf grasped Alex's shoulder with his hand and a warm feeling pooled inside Alex's chest. His lips were pulling into a happy smile which Wolf mirrored with a rare quirk of his own mouth. Oh, Wolf was-

"Is that our great leader smiling? One hell of a sappy moment you're getting up to in here," Fox interrupted. K Unit was trailing in, covered in grass and dirt and looking at the pair with amused bemusement.

Wolf jerked back from Alex and his attempt at acting nonchalant made Alex snort. Fox gave Wolf a look that promised the moment was stored for future teasing material. He reached the pair and stood before Alex.

"You're going now, right Cub?" Fox asked.

"Yeah I'm going to be picked up," Alex replied.

"Here." Alex's hands were guided open and a piece of paper placed on them. "This is for you, so if you ever need anything you can know how to reach us. When we have off duty time, we're all living in London so you have to meet up with us. You're a part of K Unit now."

Alex looked down and unfolded the paper. It was lined, with four phone numbers scrawled down in four distinct handwritings. Next to each number was four forenames and surnames Alex had never heard before.

His unit had given him their ultimate sign of trust- their real names. Alex felt his breath hitch and looked at each person. There was open acceptance in each and every face- no, more than acceptance. This was friendship.

"Thank you," he said, simple but sincere. His eyes felt moist and all of a sudden he was being pulled into a mass of bear hugs and shoulder pattings. It was a huddle of parting words and goodbyes. Alex wanted to forget this whole mess, Ian's death and MI6 and everything, but once his life got back to normal he would keep this one good thing. He would stay in touch with his team mates.

A thought popped into Alex's mind which confused him.

"But wait, how do I know whose number belongs to who?" he asked. After all, they hadn't written down their code names next to each one.

Fox grinned and replied smugly, "Well, you'll definitely have to call all of them now to find out, won't you?"

And Alex laughed.


	4. A Series of Unfortunate Meetings

**Chapter 4: A Series of Unfortunate Meetings**

**(Three times is apparently not quite the charm in meeting Yassen Gregorovich)**

* * *

Alex shivered in the chilly night air. It was a bizarre scene, him hiding behind a cluster of boulders at two in the morning like an overgrown child playing hide-and-seek, except a much more deadly version where a bullet in his head would be his lot if caught.

Not exactly the most child friendly game to play.

How he got here didn't help the bizarreness of the situation at all. His infiltration at Sayle Enterprises had involved a healthy dose of sarcastic barbed comments at his enemies- which may possibly get him killed at some point, but he really couldn't help himself. If they were blackmailing a teenager to play James Bond, they could hardly blame him for _acting_ like one.

His time as a super-secret spy had also involved a lot of 'innocent' wandering about into places he really shouldn't be.

His ears, like his eyes, had also been growing sharper every day.

In the middle of his sneaking about he would sometimes suddenly jolt. Without any warning, the world around him would suddenly amplify itself ten-fold louder and every little scurry and murmur became crystal clear. The first time it happened he had, quite understandably, had a minor mental freak out in the middle of a deserted corridor. It was overwhelming, like being thrown head first in an ocean of sound waves. In those instances his wings would feel like they were electrified with small currents of energy prickling down every feather.

Then the tell-tale click clack of shoes on hard laminated floor would steadily ring louder and Alex would know his senses had amplified to warn him of someone's approach. Those few instances felt like he was escaping capture by a hair's breadth by dashing down a side corridor or, on one memorable occasion, out of a window to hide.

But if his wings were enhancing his ears and eyes, what other parts of Alex were they going to change? It was a niggling thought, the gnawing fear of how much human, the original Alex Rider, would be left in his body at the end.

Each time the thought surfaced Alex would push it down determinedly - those thoughts could wait until later. Completing the mission was all that mattered right now so he could go back home, to his normal life and to Jack.

His latest snooping expedition had led to him overhearing from behind a closed metal door about a delivery that was happening at two am. So naturally he had snuck out that night, spied Mr Grin heading off in a group of trucks and had tumbled in the back of the last truck seconds before they left.

He had dashed to these huge boulders when the trucks stopped, the closest obstacle to the trucks he could crouch behind. His position was still pretty far away but his eagle like eyes made up for the distance easily.

Alex exhaled softly, too quiet to be heard. He concentrated his eyes hard on the once deserted beach before him and felt a thrill of energy from his wings as his vision zoomed in like a pair of binoculars. It was dizzying to see everything blurred and in double. Alex trembled with effort as he forced his eyes to stare _harder_ until the overlapping shapes merged into one.

The scene before him played out in high definition clarity, with the abnormally sharp edges that was typical of his enhanced vision.

His mind was whirring about what on earth was happening as he watched everything unfold. From the guards, Mr Grin and Nadia Vole clearly waiting for something by the stone jetty to an _actual gigantic submarine_ rising from the ocean.

All his thoughts and theories and possible explanations came to an abrupt halt as a man climbed out of the submarine.

Yassen Gregorovich.

Killer.

Murderer.

_Predator._

The uncomfortable prickles of danger that had run up his spine whenever he was in the same room as Sayle, Mr Grin or Nadia Vole was nothing compared to _this_.

His instincts were outright screaming themselves hoarse at him.

This man was the living embodiment of a hunter. It sang in his lean powerful muscles, his weightless steps which even Alex couldn't strain to hear, his effortless gait that Alex had no doubt could glide towards his prey in less than a heartbeat.

What struck Alex the most was his appearance. Here he was dressed in plain grey overalls and in the grainy photo Mrs Jones had shown him in the plane hangar, Yassen had been wearing a simple T shirt and denim jeans. He wasn't pretending to be a sheep, but instead was a wolf hidden in plain sight. Alex knew this was a predator who could pass unnoticed in a crowd, a virtual ghost unless he wanted to be seen.

And that's what made him truly terrifying.

Alex's wings, which he had grown used to constantly moving and rustling about his skin, were locked so tight it was almost painful. His limbs mirrored his wings, frozen stiff like they were made of stone. He felt like a drawn bowstring, quivering with an unknown tension.

Fight?

Or flight?

Neither, Alex thought forcefully with a great deal of effort. It took an even greater deal to stay where he was and force his lungs to breathe again. It would be suicidal to try to take on Yassen but he couldn't run for his life either, not when he felt so close to working out what Sayle was planning.

Because if Yassen Gregorovich was involved, there was no way in hell Sayle was innocent. He seemed like the type of person whose very presence went hand in hand with death and destruction. The thought of Yassen lounging idly in a café somewhere, sipping a cappuccino, nibbling on a plate of blueberry muffins and with no deadly agenda other than lazing about was impossible enough to make Alex want to laugh slightly hysterically.

So Alex carried on watching, even though his eyes were starting to hurt from straining his zoomed in vision for so long. Painful tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes but he stubbornly kept his eyes glued on Yassen. He watched Yassen exchange words with Nadia Vole that Alex couldn't hear, watched the guards line up and pass down large silver sealed boxes from the submarine with hands careful to the point of fear.

Watched a guard drop a box and Yassen shoot him point blank in the chest without batting an eyelid.

By the time Alex was back in his own bed his eyeballs felt like they had been prodded with silver hot knives and he still couldn't stop shivering.

He squeezed his eyes shut but all he could see was the bullet slamming into the guard, his mouth still parting open in a silent cry as he toppled backwards into the ocean. This was the first time Alex had seen someone die. He felt numb. Was he supposed to feel sad? Shocked? Happy that one of the bad guys was gone? Alex knew he was prepared to fight if things went south, knew he couldn't finish this mission without casualties happening but this was different. This was just some nameless guard who wasn't even after him.

Alex wrapped his arms around himself and distracted himself by puzzling over the clues he had on what Sayle was up to. He felt his wings flex themselves and mirror his arms, wrapping around his chest in a comforting embrace.

Eventually he was lulled into a deep sleep.

Alex knew he was dreaming because one minute he had his face was buried in his pillow, luxuriously soft typical of everything Sayle had provided, and the next he was in a birdcage. It was large enough for him to stand and move around in but by barely much, making him feel nauseatingly constricted. The bars were a cold gold with no embellishments.

The cage was a blunt construction and Alex couldn't walk anywhere without a crimson tulip undermining his path, stifling Alex with pepperminty heavy nectar that made him feel like he was choking.

So Alex sat on his swinging metal perch with his hands tightly bound in front of him and sang. He didn't want to sing, he hated singing but he had no free will. He sang and sang until his voice was hoarse and blood trickled down his throat. As he sang his mechanical tune the bars of his cage began to bleed, blood running down and dripping on his hands from the ceiling. It fed the tulips, soaked into their petals until they preened. The gold on the bars wore away until he was left in a cage of rusted ugly metal that was still too strong for him to escape.

It was an absolute nightmare.

He was helpless as the students from his school, who had flocked around him at the start, now turned against him. They shut their eyes, shook their heads and walked away. Alex wanted to shout for them to come back but he had no words, only the song he couldn't stop singing. Tears fell from his face as Tom, his childhood best friend, stood by him the longest but in the end the blood was too much. He shook his head, eyes full of sorrow, and turned away.

"Alex!"

Alex spun around and saw Jack running towards him. His heart lifted as he watched her desperately stretch out her hand towards him. He flung out his in return but then screamed as a bullet lodged into her body. She staggered, fell, died.

As soon as her body hit the floor a graveyard of dead bodies sprang around Alex, Jack amongst them. Their faces were are blank as if someone had taken an eraser and rubbed out their features. All of them were grey skinned and decomposing but their wounds were bleeding as fresh as the moment they died. They lay there, still and motionless.

All of them had a single rigid finger crooked, pointing accusingly at Alex.

Alex couldn't breathe. His lips were still singing like he was an autonomous robot and his controls were in someone else's hands. It was all too much, he couldn't take it, just _too much_-

And then Yassen entered. He strode towards Alex like a panther with fluid, powerful gaits. The corpses parted a path for him like the Red Sea. Not a single fleck of blood touched him.

Yassen looked Alex in the eye as he raised his gun without breaking stride and shot him in the heart.

Alex jolted and looked down at the red blossoming on his chest like a rose. Like a switch had been flicked his voice finally, _finally,_ stopped singing. He felt like he was in a trance as his bleeding heart transformed into a fierce flame. It spread in seconds, engulfing his already blood drenched body and rearing higher and higher until the entire birdcage was on fire. Instead of being painful, it felt baptising even as his flesh blackened and crumbled to ashes.

He didn't have a physical body. Alex simply _was_.

Then Alex was reborn, rising from the ashes like a phoenix. He was a new being. He rose, spread his wings against his bars and crumbled his cage to dust.

Alex woke up feeling lightheaded.

He had never had such a strange dream before. The elevated taste of freedom from the end of the dream was fading rapidly like perfume in the wind.

His previously immaculately pressed bedsheets were flung on the floor in his sleep in a messy heap. He allowed himself a few minutes to simply lay there on his back, watching the golden sun rise from behind the artificial cold blue window and pondering on the frustrating feeling of something being just out of his grasp.

* * *

The second time Alex saw Yassen Gregorovich was in fact the very next day. But in the short space of time inbetween Alex's mission had taken a wild series of turns. He'd been chased by killer men in killer quad bikes which had sent Alex sprinting for his life. With each leaped dodge he felt a rush of air and a spring in his heels that pushed him just slightly higher than humanly feasible. Too bad for them they couldn't work their meat brains on this fascinating fact, being dead and all. Now _there _were some deaths that Alex had little qualms over. Grown men shouldn't be attempting murder on schoolchildren after all.

Then Alex had followed Ian's clues from Port Tallon's quaint red bricked library to the claustrophobic underground mine shafts that had Alex breathing a bit faster and wishing for the open blue skies above. Diving into a submerged tunnel in a too big wetsuit left behind by his uncle was also extremely unpleasant. His skin was mostly dry but the ferocious cold water left his wings shivering non-stop like they were vibrating.

And there was the matter of Ian Rider himself. His clues were like traces left behind a ghost that was haunting Port Tallon and Sayle Enterprises. Each new piece of information left made Alex's stomach twang, a bitter reminder of his uncle's façade of lies but also a gleam into the real Ian Rider, giving Alex faint hope at knowing him a little bit better. If Ian Rider was lingering on here, Alex wanted to complete the mission in his footsteps to let him pass on peacefully with no loose ends.

So Alex had been lead here from the mines to this huge chamber where it seemed the Stormbreakers were being assembled.

"Agent Gregorovich, report to the Biocontainment Zone. This is a call for Agent Gregorovich."

The call issued from the speaker had Alex's attention snapping in an instant to one of the numerous workers moving away from the assembly line. It was Yassen again. His eyes tracked him as he walked off. He would have presumed Yassen too important for common grunt labour. It was like seeing a wolf grazing alongside a flock of sheep. Maybe he had been overseeing the assembly or handling the more delicate parts, Alex pondered.

Alex zoning all his attention on Yassen was his downfall. By focusing on the largest predator, he hadn't been as alert about the lesser ones. Namely, the guard who now had his gun prodded into Alex's neck.

Alex mentally swore, knocked him out and ran.

His cover had been blown and he had a nation to save from virus infected computers.

* * *

The third time Alex saw Yassen Gregorovich was also the first time Yassen met him. This was, predictably, for the worse and not the better. Alex could have gone happily for his whole life without being in close proximity with Yassen unless it was to lodge a bullet in his merciless heart for murdering his uncle.

Also, Alex was falling.

The wind was ripping against him like a savage beast. It tore the flesh on his face and howled but even then his own heartbeat was louder to his ears, erratic beyond measure. He stubbornly tried to open his eyes which had squeezed shut against the wind.

He had barely managed to slit them open only to see a helicopter above with Yassen in the pilot's seat. With gloved hands gripping the controls all the way down, the helicopter was throttling straight at Alex. His artic blue eyes were pinned coolly on him, not moving a centimetre away from his target.

Alex was Yassen's target.

Alex, who was going to be hit in a head on collision in mid-air-


End file.
